


All For Believing

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M, castiel is in trouble, dean tries to help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 08:18:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7707667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer gives with one hand and takes with the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All For Believing

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Livejournal in 2009.

_Would you know him if you saw him?_

It’s a thought that Castiel has not allowed himself to give voice to. In some ways it does not bear thinking about, seeing Lucifer, his brother, once more. He is not supposed to feel fear but the list of things he is not supposed to do has grown so much that he dare not examine it too closely.

It isn’t the fear that gnaws at the corners of his Grace, though. It’s the hope that he will once more look upon Lucifer, if only fleetingly.

It started soon after his confrontation with Uriel. He did not allow himself to reflect too closely on the dead vessel on the floor, the beautiful wings spread out in what he recognises all too clearly as a parody of the pride he exhibited when he first met Dean Winchester (how he wished he had understood Dean then as he does now). But Uriel’s words bring him to thoughts of Lucifer. Beautiful, wondrous Lucifer.

It is not even as if Castiel had listened to Lucifer’s Blasphemy. Castiel has always been loyal. Loyal to a fault he acknowledges now. His Father’s Word was everything and he had been constant in his devotion. In his obedience. He had assumed that all his brothers and sister’s had felt the same.

The shock of discovering that this was not so was no more lessened all these years later when he discovered that once again his closest friend, his confidante, had beliefs so intrinsically different to his own. He does not believe he would have been able to kill Uriel though. His anger was muted for all its righteousness. He is thankful for Anna, even though he still does not understand why she chose to Fall.

All these thoughts flicker through his mind as he is destroyed. As the Archangel pulls him to pieces atom by atom, his Grace and soul and wings and vessel (he hopes he managed to send Jimmy to safety, but he is very afraid that he did not manage even that simple task). They shatter and crumble and if he could scream he would, oh how he would scream until the world paled before him.

_Would you know him if you saw him?_

It’s a moot question of course. How could anyone who had once gazed upon the Morningstar ever imagine that they would not instantly recognise this most perfect of creatures once they saw him again?

As Castiel wakes the first thing he sees is Lucifer, standing before him in all his glory.

He isn’t sure, but he thinks that he can feel Lucifer’s laughter deep within him as he drifts back into blissful darkness.

++++

“Come along, Castiel, it’s time to wake up.”

Castiel fights the feeling a few moments longer, realising all too late that he has been dreaming. His eyes shoot open and Lucifer is smirking at him. He is wearing a vessel now, and Castiel wonders how much time has passed.

“I was dreaming,” he says, his voice croaky and unused to working. He looks down at his naked body, recognises from a cursory glance that it is Jimmy Novak’s, though Jimmy is no longer there and shivers as Lucifer plants a kiss on his cheek. “Angels are not supposed to dream. We do not sleep,” he says, ignoring the soft scritch of stubble against his face as Lucifer leans in and _smells_ him.

“You do now,” Lucifer says. Castiel would reply, but Lucifer is licking and nibbling at his neck and it feels so incredible that he can’t believe that he never did this before.

It takes a moment for Castiel to realise what is happening. And even then he finds it hard to move against Lucifer’s magnetic presence. But he must.

“Lucifer, what are you doing?” he finally asks, though it comes out as more of a whisper than the holy command he had intended it to be.

Lucifer plants kisses along Castiel’s neck and spine and Castiel tries very hard not to react, but finds himself hardening all the same. The shame almost consumes him.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Lucifer purrs, “your body is just feeling oversensitive after I fixed you.” He sucks on Castiel’s earlobe and Castiel fails to bite back a moan. “It won’t last forever. Just long enough.”

Castiel desperately wants to both sink into Lucifer’s caress and flee as far as his wings will take him. He has been plagued by indecision all his existence, he realises now. He has made few decisions on his own and they have all had dire consequences for him (how do humans manage to make so many choices throughout the day?) If there were someone else here, someone who he must protect, go to, perhaps then he could make a decision.

“Shhh, my love, hush now,” Lucifer croons, his fingers dancing along Castiel’s bare chest and to his hips, nails scritching against his nipples. Castiel watches him with dawning terror, not because he does not want Lucifer to keep on touching him, but because he is afraid what will happen when he stops.

And as Lucifer tilts his head, one eyebrow raised, Castiel is forced to acknowledge that he is enjoying these sensations far too much.

“You have bewitched me,” he says, his voice stronger than it has been. Lucifer’s laughter rings out and Castiel flinches.

“Nothing so asinine, my darling _brother_ ”. He cups Castiel’s face and pulls him forward into a kiss that would have taken his breath away if he had any. Instead he finds himself resting his hands on Lucifer’s hips, suddenly divested of all clothing. He has watched humans for centuries, but he has never wondered how they tasted, or why they experienced so much pleasure in the simple act of kissing.

He sees and feels it all now.

It’s like all Lucifer’s carnal knowledge is flowing into him and he is powerless under the onslaught. He sees images of hell, but distorted, as if it were _right_ for torturers to enjoy fornicating with their victims, as if it were _righteous_ for the demons to tear traitorous angels to shreds. As if it were perfectly normal for Lucifer to take as many supplicants into his bed as he can.

He is immeasurably pleased to feel disgust at all these images.

Lucifer pulls back with a reluctant sigh and nibbles at Castiel’s bottom lip. Castiel’s eyes nearly fall shut and he bucks into Lucifer’s hand as he places it around his uncomfortably hard erection and begins to lightly stroke it.

“I was so hoping you were going to spend more time with me,” Lucifer says. “But the world is crumbling much more quickly than I had imagined.” He smiles and Castiel has to fight extremely hard not to return it. “Just so you know, I’m not done.”

Before Castiel can ask what he means, what any of this means, darkness claims him.

+++++

The first thing he sees when he awakes is the barrel of a shotgun. He is lying in the dirt, the gun terribly close to his face. The second thing he notes is that the sun seems brighter now; he can see through his human eyes with the clarity of his angelic senses. He has only a fleeting moment to wonder where he is, before the owner of the gun is addressing him.

“Dean said you were dead.”

Castiel blinks. _Dean._ He’d forgotten all about him. About the Apocalypse. About Sam. About Bobby Singer.

“I…” He tries to speak but instead he finds himself retching, though there is nothing for him to bring up. He can sense that Bobby is still wary, has still not quite lowered his gun, but for the moment these physical sensations are preoccupying him. He thinks he knows what Lucifer has done and is very afraid that if the Archangels were not going to banish him from Heaven before, they certainly are now.

“Cas?”

Castiel looks up and squints. He had not heard their car arrive.

“But you were dead…” Sam says.

Dean. Sam. Together. It is enough to make Castiel smile, though he wonders how successful the attempt was, judging by the worried looks the brothers exchange, and the way the earth is suddenly tilting on its axis.

+++++

He is really beginning to dislike waking up. Though perhaps it is the falling unconscious he really despises. Either way, he is now wrapped up in a comfortable bed that he presumes is somewhere in Bobby Singer’s house. He should tell them that Lucifer sent him, that Lucifer knows where they are. But the sheets feel so soft against his body and he is so tired. Angels do tire, get weary, feel hardship. But he has never felt such desperate tiredness in his bones. Has never felt the true weight of flesh upon his Grace.

He has no idea what he is doing.

“Hey, shh,” Dean says, leaning over him. He is glad to see Dean. He realises now that part of his worry was that Lucifer had tainted him somehow, that he would look on Dean and see only revulsion – a soul tormented by its time in Hell. But instead it is just Dean, the man he has come to know and respect above all others.

“You okay?”

Castiel nods. “I am…” His voice gives way again and Dean gives him some water to sip before allowing him to try again. “Lucifer…”

“Woke up, yeah.”

Castiel nods and starts to lift himself up. Dean’s hands move as if he wishes to help, but instead he pulls at a loose thread on his jeans.

“I saw him.”

Dean stares at Castiel and Castiel stares back. “You…That’s how you…huh.”

Castiel finds himself smiling and then he starts to laugh. Dean is watching him warily but Castiel doesn’t care, can’t seem to make himself stop.

It’s Dean’s palm slamming against his cheek that silences him.

“Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel replies. And now he feels like crying, but thinks that that would be even more unacceptable. “I think…I think I’m feeling.”

“Like, everything?” Dean asks. Castiel thinks that he is taking this very calmly, but then humans are always surprising him.

“I think so, yes. Lucifer…re-made me.”

Dean nods and looks out the window, staring off into the distance. “I really hate that son of a bitch. But damn it, now I have something to thank him for.”

Dean is not talking to him he understands, so he lets his words settle comfortably between them. He worries that if he tries to voice what he is thinking right now, that he would only make a mess of things.

“Get some sleep, Cas,” Dean tells him after a moment. And just like that he’s leaving Castiel alone. So terribly alone.

+++++

Castiel slumbers eventually, his tiredness overwhelming his fear at falling over the precipice into sleep. It is just one more thing he can’t believe the humans take so easily for granted. Even with some of his angel senses enhanced, he still finds his new (old?) body limiting.

His sleep was not restful though. At first he thought it was just his unfamiliarity with dreams – at least in creating them for himself. He knew that they could represent a fear in the real world and that he should pay attention for any signs that may help him understand his new reality. But he had assumed that he would still have some control over his own journey and yet this dream was turning into quite a struggle.

At first it had been quiet and peaceful, a serenity filling him that he hadn’t known he’d missed until he remembered its purity. He recognised this as the oldest dream in existence, that of home. Comfort. Even after everything the thought that he may never see his home again causes his very Grace to ache.

But then the landscape had changed. It became darker. Colder. He was alone, no longer able to feel the flitter of his brothers and sister’s minds against his own. There was nothing.

Then there was the soft feel of a feather against his cheek. He turned but could not sense anything. Then ghostly fingers trailed their way along his arm.

“Who’s there?” he asked, his voice echoing back at him. Mocking him. “Who’s there?”

The fingers trailed along his cheek and then down his back and once again he found that he was naked, his body’s reactions betraying his mind.

“Who is it?” he asked again, insistent. The fear felt more real there, stronger, more invasive. He could not see anything, all was darkness. He did not know what to do or how to wake himself. He tried desperately to regain control of his own dream but he was powerless before the raw energy he felt around him. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Lucifer?”

“Yes, my love.”

He turned around, moving towards the sound of the voice.

“This way, lover.”

“Lucifer…”

“No, over here…”

Castiel stopped abruptly, his head spinning from having tried to follow where Lucifer had been leading him. He sensed that this was a dangerous precedent he should not encourage.

“What do you want with me?”

Ghostly lips pressed against his own are the only answer he received. He moved his head away but ghostly, still invisible fingers, dug into his jaw and pulled him forward.

Then suddenly Lucifer’s touch was all around him, dancing against his skin. They were everywhere, along with lips and tongue and teeth. Stroking, nibbling, licking, sending Castiel into a frenzy until he gave in, he could not help himself. He gave in to Lucifer’s touch, his dream state sending all the blood to his cock…

“Cas, are you o…kay.” Dean’s voice reaches him and Castiel opens his eyes. During the night he had kicked his sheets to the floor and now he lay, naked, his body thrumming with need and a startled Dean Winchester staring at him from the doorway.

“Thought I heard…” Dean says, but he cannot finish his sentence. “You…right, I’m just going to…”

“It’s Lucifer,” Castiel quickly says, afraid of what will happen if he is left alone again. “He entered my dream.”

Dean frowns and moves further into the room. “You sure? You don’t exactly have any experience with, um, any experience.”

Castiel growls and Dean’s eyes opened wide. “I know….oh.” Ghostly fingers drift along his spine and he shivers.

“Is he…?” Dean asks. He doesn’t wait for Castiel to answer. “I should get Bobby, we need to redraw the protections, or something. He can’t just…come here.” He winces at the choice of words, but Castiel is far too gone to have noticed. “Cas? Cas, you know you can’t let him…”

“Dean, please,” Castiel moans. He isn’t sure what he’s asking but it’s enough to bring Dean closer, his curiosity, not to mention the heady smell of sex, pulling him forward.

“What do you want?” He licks his lips and jumps as Castiel takes his arm and pulls him forward.

Castiel bucks up as Lucifer’s unseen fingers dip inside his entrance and he can feel a warm mouth on his erection. Dean’s eyes drift down Castiel’s body and he feels himself hardening. And hell, there’s so much wrong with this scenario he doesn’t know where to begin. But Castiel looks so vulnerable, so needy, so desperate.

Castiel silences any more of Dean’s worries by kissing him, forcing the ghostly fingers that had been trying to enter his mouth out and away. Lucifer’s touch becomes harder, less soft and ticklish and more predatory.

Castiel is deeply shamed at how his arousal spikes as Lucifer becomes less gentle with him.

Dean growls low in his throat and moves to straddle Castiel, his clothes rubbing up against Castiel’s body and creating a delicious friction. Castiel starts bucking up, rubbing himself against Dean and pulling him down into another kiss. Dean shifts so he can put his hand around Castiel’s cock and begins to move it, his gaze never leaving Castiel’s face as the angel sinks into everything he never thought he’d be able to experience. It’s all too much, Dean and Lucifer’s touch competing against each other so he doesn’t know where one begins and the other ends.

Castiel’s orgasm takes him completely by surprise, his eyes lighting up and causing Dean to shut his own for fear that he is about to be blinded. His cry causes the paintings on the walls to rattle and as both Lucifer and Dean press kisses against his sweat drenched flesh he allows himself to slide back into the darkness. He is starting to like it there.

\+ + + +

“Welcome back”.

For one horrifying second all Castiel can hear is Lucifer’s voice, echoing in his head. And then he opens his eyes and sees Dean staring down at him, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.

“I didn’t know whether you could drink now, or what, so I brought you this.” He puts the mug down and sits gingerly on the bed. “You okay?”

“I don’t know.” Castiel pulls himself up a little and sees that he is now dressed in a T-shirt and baggy jeans. “Did you…?”

“Sam helped,” Dean replies. He turns away from Castiel to hide the flush of embarrassment that spreads along his cheeks.

“Are you well?”

Dean turns back to Castiel and snorts. “Well I had sex with an angel and the Devil last night, but apart from that everything’s back to normal.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that of you.”

“Hey,” Dean says sharply. “You didn’t ask me to do anything. And I, well I kinda owe you one.”

Castiel’s heart sank. “Is that the only reason you stayed?”

Dean doesn’t answer. Instead he lays down on the bed next to Castiel and looks anywhere but at the angel.

Castiel used to like silences. Listening to the soft thrum of humanity or revelling in the gentle serenity of Heaven. Now though it is one more weight upon his frail shoulders. One more area in which he is lacking.

“Is he gone?” Dean asks.

“I don’t know. At the moment he is, but…”

“We need to do something about that.”

“I will deal with it,” he says.

Dean turns towards him then. “Not on your own you won’t. No,” he snaps, as Castiel tries to interrupt. “You, me, Sam, Bobby. We’re going to look into it and we’re going to stop him. Got it?”

Castiel nods slowly. He doesn’t know what else he can say; he has so very little experience of anyone looking out for him because they want to, and not because it has been ordained.

He knows it will not be easy. Ridding himself of Lucifer’s touch will be far harder than he is willing to let Dean know just yet (already he can feel himself craving Lucifer and the parallel with Sam’s predicament is not lost on him). But for the first time he allows himself to hope that everything will be all right.

Whether this is because he has an ally or because Dean has willingly rested his head against his shoulder, he does not know. But it pleases him nonetheless that of everything the Archangels and Lucifer have taken from him, his faith in Dean remains intact.


End file.
